Oh god help me my husband is home this week, has been home since before Christmas Eve and will continue being home until after New Years assuming we live that long because this cannot continue, this maudlin, grumbling, bossy shit he does when he’s in a mood, which god knows he is in this week because he is home.  He is on one of those forced vacations his company has been doing to keep the doors open, so I’m supposed to be grateful like soldiers during the Bataan Death March shoulda been grateful to be alive.  (Yeah, yeah, over stating, so what?  You gotta problem with it?  Take a fucking number.)

It’s a never ending cycle of attitude, snark and ramping it up when a husband is home that does not want to be home.   He would rather be at work with his huge fucking printers, making with the secret engineering hieroglyphics on graph pads, doing whatever it is he does because I have no idea but anyway he is home and there aren’t enough goddamned cookies in the goddamned universe to sooth this savage beast (meaning him) (meaning me), no sirree.     (and YES, we each get our own individual parenthesis)  

(you need to know I'm eating the heads* off these little fuckers, cookie angels and little cookie men and I'm liking it, okay.  LIKING IT)   

My son’s nice little bulldog Winston is here visiting while my son and his brood are off in heaven somewhere working on the tans.  I’m hating them all about now, the whole lot of em, feeling my wrath working itself up into something formidable.  (I do love this farty little dog though, so there’s a positive.  but don’t press your luck!)

I was in a store today looking at frames minding my own business and some crazy woman decides the meaningless dooda crap from china she was looking at was not as interesting as the big cumbersome meaningless crap from china I was looking at so she drags her cart over to where I am to clutter up my little space where I’m setting aside frames and measuring mats and whatever.

So I figure, this is a big store, I’ll be nice, and I glide gracefully over to another section where I can look at different frames and you gotta know she follows me, her and her outrageously HUGE CART WITH NOTHING IN IT, filling my personal space with her annoying obtrusive self and I decided right that moment, like Custer, I’m taking a stand and I’m not budging, goddamnit!

So I don’t.  

But she is tactical this bitch! She moves even CLOSER to me in my personal space, cluttering my goddamned air, bringing her H1N1 moistened breath within breathing range and I’m like losing it rapidly.  She is high risk nuts! 

Showdown over, I retreat to where I was before and she doesn’t follow.  I figure someone got lucky because next step would have had me leaping over the carts to throttled her.   I do not doubt for one minute, nose to nose, she would have breathed directly into my face infecting me with ebola.

And that is how it has gone today.  I thought it would be a good day but it's all gone to shit,  hubbins is in a permanent snit and I am no goddamned better.  My life is presently the stuff of Cops and Trampy Housewives of Ct and other white trash reality tv, seething attitude and hip thrusts.  If it continues in this vein there’s a good chance I’m going to show up on your flatscreen screaming foul invective at some hapless Yankee cop assholes with my raging Brooklyn accent.

This holiday better get it’s fucking act together, that’s all I have to say!  

 *I have consumed probably ten thousand calories writing this blog.  okay?  TEN THOUSAND FUCKING CALORIES.